Who Needs Friends
by msgrits
Summary: “As your closest friends, we wanted to let you know that we accept whoever you are unconditionally. You don’t have to pretend with us. We love you no matter what.” Sometimes having good friends can be a pain. GSR
1. Default Chapter

**A/N Thanks to Tcrowe**/sm**ryczko and Alik2k for the last minute speedy work. Many thanks to Cybrocat who introduced me to the musical Avenue Q and prompted my imagination to wander this way.**

**I don't own CBS or CSI but I own a nifty faux Tiffany lamp. **

**I do mean good cop, good cop in the story. Don't ask just read. Enjoy.**

**Spoilers: Yep**

Who Needs Friends 

Chapter One

Gil looked at Brass and Catherine. Both were sitting ramrod straight, hands in their laps, eyes open and focused on him in a loving vaguely pathetic way. They looked like a caricature of good cop, good cop.

He waited, leaning back in his chair away from the onslaught of whatever was about to happen.

Catherine started in a voice that sounded very much like his mother's. "As your closest friends, we wanted to let you know that we accept whoever you are unconditionally. You don't have to pretend with us. We love you no matter what."

Gil looked at Brass hoping that a male mind meld would take place. Instead Brass tried to look pleasant. He only succeeded in looking nervous and uncomfortable.

The New Jersey accent kicked in. "Gris. I want you to know that I will never think any less of you. That you are less of a man. I think I can say the same for Nick, Warrick and Greg."

Gil titled his head and scratched at his beard. He was utterly confused. What were they talking about? What did they think he was hiding? It couldn't be Sara. Everyone knew he had a fire for his subordinate. That was an open secret, sort of like don't ask don't tell.

"Gil, we know." Catherine stated flatly. "And now that we know it makes perfect sense. Why a handsome, successful man never married. Why you keep Sara at arms length."

Gil listened very carefully to make sure his hearing was still intact. Maybe he was starting to miss sentences and phrases again. That was possible.

Catherine leaned forward in her chair so that her knees came to rest against the desk. "I saw you come out of the Sweet Potato Bar and Grill."

"Yes…" Gris was sure that he would never understand women. Again he looked at Brass.

"It's okay buddy. This changes nothing between us. You are still my ace, my poker playing buddy, my go-to guy. I just won't invite you to strip clubs any longer." Brass laughed a little too cheerily.

"You two go to strip clubs?"

"Yeah. So?" Brass huffed. "Find me a guy that doesn't. Considering Gris seemed to enjoy himself."

He winked at his friend.

"I am not judging. I used to make my living…." Catherine thought of something. "Are you bisexual Gil? I mean the thing with Lady Heather…"

Gil rubbed his temple. They thought he was gay. He started to laugh, but didn't want to insult their careful planning and genuine concern.

"Guys…"

"I mean we all experiment Gil. Were Heather and Terry experiments?"

Brass shook his head. "Must have been because there is no way a straight man would turn down Sara Sidle. You had me worried. I mean you being gay is a relief. None of us could figure out how you could turn down Sara. She has on that court skirt today. Aw man, that woman has some legs on her."

Gil's mind wandered to Sara's legs for a second. He had forgotten today was her court day. He would have to find an excuse to talk to her before she left. Hopefully she would sit across from his desk in the chair that Catherine occupied where he could get an eyeful.

Gil took off his glasses to buy himself a few seconds while he gathered his thoughts. "Guys, I am not gay."

"Sure you are." Catherine insisted. "Why else would you be at the Sweet Potato?"

"To have lunch with a friend." Gil offered.

"What friend? We know all of your friends." Brass questioned.

"And you know this one. Mimosa from the transvestite case. We have lunch or dinner from time to time."

Catherine gave him a pained look. "Gil you don't have to lie to us."

"I'm not." He said simply as he checked the time on his computer screen. Sara would be leaving soon. Time to try another tactic.

"Look. Why do you think I would feel the need to lie to you about my sexual orientation? I don't befriend close-minded people. If I was gay and you didn't already know I would not lie to you."

Catherine and Brass cut eyes at one another and then back to Gil.

Brass spoke. "So you are bisexual then?"

"No. I am straight. I am not attracted to men. I am attracted to women only." Long legged brunette women with an ass you can bounce a quarter off of, Gil thought. If he missed Sara in her court clothes there would be hell to pay. He'd never let Jim win at poker again.

Frustration and pain coursed through Brass voice. "Big guy…"

A knock at the door interrupted Brass' next statement. Sara throaty voice filled the office. "Gris, I'm on my way out. Why is your door closed anyway?"

Gil gave Brass a look.

"You had better be glad that I had a chance to see her before she went to court or I would own your house by next week. I can't believe…"

Sara turned the knob and stepped into the room. "Family meeting? Want me to get the boys?" She said, jovially trying to lighten the tension that assaulted her as she moved closer.

Gil noted that Sara had on no stockings. This was good dream material. Bonus.

Sara leaned against the edge of Gris' desk. "Is everything okay? You two look like my Aunt and Uncle when they tried to tell me about sex."

Catherine was glad to have another woman in the room. "We were just having a conversation about honesty and friendship. Do you have any friends that kept anything important from you? Like being gay."

Sara shook her head. "The rest of my friends are in San Francisco. Obviously not a place where people feel a need to lie about their sexuality and you guys are all straight."

Gil had stopped listening and was concentrating on Sara's ass as it was very close to his hand right now. Did she have on underwear? It was probably best that Catherine and Brass stayed. Sara knew what she was doing to him. Hell, everyone knew what she did to him.

Brass cleared his throat. The cop in him had overridden the friend in him. He had places to go and people to see. Time to speed this conversation along.

"Look Gris. Stop it. Stop acting like you are looking at Sara's legs and ass. Stop acting like you are interested. There's no way you can be. What heterosexual man in his right mind would turn down that woman for dinner?" Brass stood as waved a hand in Sara's direction.

Sara covered her mouth.

"There's no way you are straight because a straight man would have nailed her years ago. Did you think we wouldn't figure it out? I mean I thought, but I wasn't sure until now…"

Gris was standing now matching Brass' belligerent tone.

"I am not pretending to look at Sara's ass, I AM looking at Sara's ass! I am not pretending to have a thing for Sara, I DO have thing for Sara! I am not gay. I am scared shitless!"

Later Gil would wonder if it was setup. His friends, Sara and her legs, his sexual frustration.

It was Catherine's clear head that broke through the stunned fog of it all. With remarkable ease she hustled Brass out of the room, told Gil she was sorry, and told Sara she would send Nick to testify since they had worked the case together.

Gil took his hands from his face ventured a look at Sara. "Smugness does not become you Sara."

She was standing over him with her arms folded. Rocking back on her heels mouth set in a semi grin.

"Scared shitless. Huh? And my ass. Well my ass is amazing. I have been doing Tae Bo. I wondered if you had noticed."

Gil had nothing to loose. "Your ass was incredible before the Tae Bo, and so were your legs although calves are more unbelievable than ever."

Sara took Catherine's former seat and draped her legs over the armrest. "I think this might be the most compliments I have had in one day. Brass thinks you are gay because you don't jump my bones. You are checking me out. Shitless huh?"

"How long are you going to lord this over my head?" Gil asked wearily.

"Let's see. You ignore me half the time. You are snippy with me the other half. You turn me down for dinner. You stutter when I give YOU the opening to ask me out. I have known you nearly ten years and you have given me no encouragement except for the occasion ogle. How long do think I should hold this over your head? I mean is there a minimum sentencing rule with regard to complete stupidity."

"There is."

"Do tell."

"According to the Penal Code of Nevada the perpetrator must agree to take the victim out to dinner."

Sara crossed and uncrossed her legs. "One dinner and you are off. I know you aren't gay but maybe you are on drugs."

"I didn't say one dinner."

"How many."

"Every week for a couple of weeks. Then we go into phase two of sentencing."

"What's phase two of sentencing?"

"I have to show you all my secret spots."

"Secrets. I love secrets"

TBC

Remember they are friends. Who will try and "help" next.


	2. A Friend in Need

A/N It is way OC but it's my party….

Chapter Two

A Friend in Need

Brass knew that Gil was avoiding him. It had been two weeks since he had accused his oldest friend of being gay. Gil would not return his phone calls. He never stayed late any longer and he refused to have dinner with Brass and Catherine any longer.

Enough was enough. Who would have thought that Gil Grissom, the original open mind; would be so pissy about this?

He dialed Grissom's landline. He could barely hear the soft trill through the door.

"Open the door Gris!"

"What?"

"Open the door."

"To my house?"

"Yes." Brass said impatiently. "That's where you are, isn't it?"

Gil stood at the door wearing a robe. His blue eyes were alert and clear.

"I am glad I didn't catch you sleeping." Brass said as he moved down the short hall to come to stand in Gil's living room.

"Look, Gris. I know I was wrong, okay. So can you give me a break? I can't believe you are holding a grudge."

Gil stuffed his hands into his robe pockets. He sighed heavily. Sometimes it was terribly inconvenient to have good friends. "Brass, I am not mad at you."

"Then why haven't you returned any of my calls? When I try to catch you after shift you run out of building like a bat out of hell. What gives? We got rhythm. Every first Tuesday we play poker. Every Monday we have drinks with Cath and we have never missed a heavyweight fight held in Vegas."

Gil smiled. "You are right. I have not been a very good friend, but it's not because you thought I was gay. I understand why you thought that. Sara is a beautiful and desirable woman and I have been a fool. I am not mad, okay?"

"Then what is it?"

Sounds came from somewhere down the hall. Sara appeared just behind Grissom and wrapped her arms around his waist. She wore a short black robe, the sash tied loosely around her.

"I thought you were gong to show me your secret spots." She said as her tongue snaked along Gil's ear.

"Cookie…"

Sara jumped and spun Gil around so that he faced Jim. "Brass, what are you doing here? I didn't hear the doorbell ring."

"Sorry" Brass mumbled as he turned his back to the couple. Now he understood why Grissom had pulled the disappearing act. It never occurred to him that Gil would act on his feelings for Sara even if he had admitted them in front of Jim and Catherine. He had expected him to weasel out of the situation like he did with everything involving Sara.

Brass listened to murmuring behind him and what he thought might be an ass slap. Footsteps faded away and a door closed in the background. He turned around.

"I think I have succeeded in embarrassing myself not once, but twice. You could have told me."

Gil shrugged. "I've been busy."

Brass' keys were still in his hand. "So it seems. Is this a secret or what?"

"It's not a secret but it's not like we made an announcement."

Brass scratched his chin. Gris ran a hand over his hair.

"Jim, can I ask you something? Why does it never occur that I might have a heterosexual love life? I mean, when most guys stop hanging out that's the automatic assumption. If you aren't giving into someone's advances then their friends assume there's someone else. You assume I am gay or pissed off."

Brass shifted one expensive loafer to another.

"I don't know Gris. Sometimes you seem like a regular guy. You hang out, drink beer, and talk about women. You seem to like women but you have ignored Sara for years and no one can figure out why. You can work anywhere. For awhile I thought you and Heather were serious but that turned out to be a no-go. It just seemed weird. There obviously wasn't anyone else because you were with us most of the time and Cath saw you coming out the restaurant. It just made sense. I made an assumption based on the evidence."

Gil nodded and looked down the hall. "You got any condoms?"

Brass sputtered at the change of subject. "What?"

"You have any condoms?" Gil asked again.

Brass stared for several seconds. He took out his wallet. He held up one flesh colored wrapper. "Not expired even. Hope springs eternal."

He handed the prophylactic to Gil. "I assume you need it."

"Yeah, we ran out. That's what I was doing out of bed. Want to redeem yourself?" Gil absently as he looked down the hall again.

Brass eyes his friend warily. "What…"

Gil picked up paper and pen form low table and began to scribble furiously.

"Go to Condoms R' Us on Martin. Get me twenty-four pack of the Ultra Thin Lover's Tickler made by Red Dawn. If Margie's there she'll know which ones. We need another pair of the red handcuffs, the Blue Venetian Body oil with the heat seeking glitter, one tub of chocolate body paint and one can…no make that two cans of Love You Lots Whip Cream."

"I don't know if I want the answer to this, but since I am in the deep end. How long you been…"

"Two weeks."

"Since that day?" Brass asked referring to the confrontation in Gil's office.

Gil didn't respond as he handed Brass a sheet of paper.

"How many of these um…" Brass pulled his glasses from a jacket pocket. "Ultra thins have you used?"

"Started out with a twelve pack, just finished a twenty four pack."

Brass put his wallet back in pocket and pulled out his notepad. "Ultra thin by Red Dawn."

"With the Tickler. Don't forget." Gil said seriously. "Put the stuff on the front step. Don't call me; I will call you. Now go."

Brass sat in the car looking at his friend's house. "Why did I ever think Gris were gay? Based on the evidence he should be asking me that question."

He pulled away in search of sex supplies.


	3. Friends Don't Let Friends

Chapter 3

"Ahhhhhhhhh."

Greg and Warrick turned to see where sound was coming from. Catherine stood wedging her cellular phone deeper into the cushions of the break room couch.

"What the hell is that?" Greg asked.

"I don't know. Someone's radio is stuck with mine and I can't turn it off. It started about fifteen minutes ago. I have tried everything. My office it too wide open. I don't want to tell Ecklie. Night and Swing are on the same frequency."

"You like that?" A deep muffled voice came from the under Catherine.

"I just saw Sofia. She's talking to Judy." Warrick said.

"That rules her out." Catherine said taking the phone out. She fiddled with the volume for the third time.

"Sheeeeeetttttt." The voice was male and distorted by passion.

"Take out the battery." Greg suggested.

"It's out. Remember out those new phones that have solar reserve in case of emergency and they can't hear me. I can only hear them. I don't know what they are doing but I was stripper and they make blush. Whoever she is. She's very limber and very skilled."

"A pro?" Greg wanted to know.

Catherine shook her head. "I don't think so. Too much passion for a pay date."

Warrick's mind was elsewhere. "So it's not me. It's not Greg. It's not Sofia. It's not Cath. That leaves Gris, Sara, and Nick."

"It's so big. I love your cock." The woman moaned

Greg closed the door to the break room. "Damn I wish it was me. Imagine that coming across the airwaves. What are they doing? What position are they in?"

"Blow job" Warrick said curtly. The investigator in all of them had perked up. Catherine gave up trying to sit the phone down in the middle of the break room table.

"She's good." Catherine commented. "I mean she's really good. She had him going for awhile. Sounds like a hummer."

Nick opened the door. They waved him to come in and close the door. "What is that?"

"Someone's phone is stuck." Greg said distractedly. "If it's Sara. I can die happy. I mean I might never get a Sara Sidle blow job but I can get it vicariously."

"If its Gris I will have to quit. I won't be able to look him in the face. I saw him naked once and it nearly did me in. I had nightmares." Catherine said.

Warrick leaned closer to see what other sounds were discernible. "You saw Gris naked."

Catherine nodded. "I walked in on him in the HAZMAT shower. That man has a lot and I mean a lot to be proud of. I just didn't need to know."

Nick was in the spirit of things now. "Can you tell if it's Gris or Sara? If it's Sara I am so not letting her live this down."

"I don't think Gris has sex." Greg said as the sounds of raunchy play found his ears. "I mean this guy sounds like a wild man. Grissom probably has charts and schedules. Put penis here on Tuesday and put tongue there on Wednesday. My money is on Sara. I knew she was a wild woman."

"Aaaahhhhhhh!" The man had reached his climax. Static filled the line when he spoke.

"Why did you do that? I didn't want to come yet. What about you?"

Movement and giggles "Don't worry. I think I can help you get up for the challenge."

"Oh yeah."

"Feel that?"

More static and an expletive from the man. "How did I can keep my hands off of you all those years?"

The CSIs went silent as a knock came from the door. Jim Brass. "Hey…"

The entire group ssshed him. "Close and lock the door." Catherine instructed.

Brass did it. "What…'

"Either Gris or Sara is having sex and we can hear them because Catherine's radio is stuck. Now shush." Greg explained impatiently.

Brass tried to speak again but soon realized that no one was listening to him.

Warrick leaned closer to the phone. "I don't believe. He's hard again? They are having sex."

Nick laughed. "That rules out Gris. A young man can't get it back after THAT blowjob. So Sara is swinging from the chandeliers."

Voices rose from the speaker. "Bend over."

"Like that?"

"Your ass is as is work of art..." The male voice was easier to hear now but still not clear enough.

"AHHHHH! OOOOOHHHHHHH" It was the woman's turn to loose control. "Feels so good."

Banging sounds could be heard as the couple's pace increased.

"Gonna come." The woman said.

"Not yet." The man responded. They rhythm slowed.

"Not yet." He said again in a softer. "I want you to enjoy this. Just enjoy it. We have all night."

Affectionate words were exchanged between them.

Catherine shook her head. "These people should teach a class. This is amazing. I think they have the perfect sex life."

The radio was silent.

"Perfect?" Brass asked. He had decided to let them figure it out for themselves.

"She is a vixen in bed. She giving him blowjobs that might send him to the hospital. He's selfless making sure she enjoys the experience not to mention the fact that these people have major stamina. They probably are doing it like rabbits. My bet is on Grissom."

The pace from the couple increased again.

"Grissom?" Nick was still skeptical.

"Yeah. Older men know how to control themselves. What they lack in energy shall we say they make for in expertise and patience."

Greg listened as the woman demanded that the man fuck her hard. "Okay this has got to be joke. This is porno speak. Who says that kind of stuff?"

Everyone looked at Greg. "Why are you staring at me?"

"Who hasn't heard or said that Greg?" Warrick wanted to know.

Greg pulled his lab coat around his body protectively. "Who do you think it is Warrick? Gris or Sara?"

Warrick tapped his fingers as if he was counting something. He was running the odds in his head. He didn't place bets any longer but he still thought like a gambler. "It's Griss doing Sara or shall I say Sara doing Gris."

"No!" Warrick and Nick said at the same time.

"Yes. Gris ain't getting freaky like that with no one but Sara."

"What about Lady Heather?" Nick countered.

Warrick still did the thing with is hands again. "I don't know what that was but I know Sara and I know Gris. Sara only trusts us and Gil only trusts us and his mother. It's Gris and Sara. They couldn't take it anymore. "

"Nah" Greg stood firm.

The heard shuffling and movement. "Too much?" Came the male voice.

"Just right." Whispered the female.

Groans and exclamations were heard. There were still no names and no voices could be distinguished over the airwaves. She called him "baby". He called her "honey".

When the finally climaxed she called out his name. "Grissom!"

"Go big guy and I mean that literally". Warrick remarked appreciatively.

Catherine ssshed him wanting to know how his companion was.

"Shit"

"What?"

"The condom broke."

"Again? I thought you changed brands."

"I did."

"It will be okay. I started taking the pill last week."


	4. Can't live with them Can't live withou...

Chapter Four

Can't live with them. Can't live without them

Catherine looked at Lindsey's school picture. Butterfield Academy hadn't turned her daughter completely around but she was doing much better. She closed the locker and spied Sara lying on the locker room bench clad in a black sports bra and red running shorts. Her feet her bare.

"When did I get old Cath?" Sara asked.

"Um, like, never." Catherine said. "Don't let the town take you down, girlie. You're young and beautiful. Hell, I'm not so young and I look pretty good for a washed up stripper."

Warrick called from the other side. "You aren't washed up. Just seasoned."

Catherine smiled. Sara groaned. "Your healthy self esteem and Warrick's constant admiration under whelms me. I'm not talking about the mirror. I'm talking about my body. Did you see me around that track? I must have added a minute to my time. The relay is next month. I'm the anchor. I'm so tired lately."

Nick called over the metal boxes. "What have you been eating?"

Catherine rolled her eyes. Coach Nick was driving them all crazy. He had confiscated Catherine's homemade brownies she'd brought for their monthly potluck and he had made Warrick stop drinking the three sodas he drank each shift.

"Don't start Stokes. I cannot deal with your nutritional fascism today." Sara returned.

Catherine hoisted her purse on her shoulder. "Maybe you're knocked up," she said lightly.

"No way," Sara said.

"Way. How do you think we ended up with Lindsey? Condom broke and I am so glad it did."

"Really?" Sara said.

"Yep." The blonde woman left the room as Warrick and Nick slammed doors and scampered behind her before Sara realized what Catherine had said.

Sara eyes grew round and she lamented her desertion.

How did Catherine know about the condom breaking?

Gil was surprised to find Sara snoring lightly in the middle of the bed they shared off shift. He had finally been able to convince her to move in with him. Her lease was up at the end of the month and he had almost talked her into a bigger house.

She was sleeping a lot these days. The relay training was wiping her out.

He sat on the edge softly and slipped off his shoes.

"Honey?" she said sleepily.

"I didn't mean to wake you. Sorry I'm late. I swear that paperwork grows when I'm not there. Like that movie, Gremlins. It multiplies after dark."

Sara laughed and yawned, "Honey did you tell Catherine about the condom breaking?"

Gil began to unbuttons one of his 14 custom made dark shirts, "Why would I tell Catherine something like that?"

"Jim?"

"I don't think so. Since I made him to go the sex store, he wants no knowledge of our sex lives. He says it gave him nightmares. Why were you talking to Cath about broken condoms?"

Sara sat up on her elbows. "Houston we have a problem."

Gil handed Sara her fourth pregnancy test. She had taken one every day for four days. Gil wondered at her complete loss of rationality.

"Um honey…I don't think that this test is going to say anything different than that other three. We have a pink line, we a have digital "you are pregnant" and we have the two dark lines. This test is not going to tell you anything different, although the nursery rhyme sound indicator is a nice touch."

Sara glowered at him as she snatched the test, "Haven't you heard of false negatives? What kind of scientist are you?"

"One who's being rational?" Gil said stupidly.

"And what the hell is that supposed to mean? You think just because I'm a woman that I'm irrational. I'll tell you why I'm irrational. I'm irrational because I just found out that our closest friends heard us having sex, this on top of your little sex shop stunt with Jim and the declaration of your undying love in the middle of your office. Oh no, it wasn't love you declared. You declared that you were scared."

She stomped into the bathroom to pee on yet another stick.

Gil shuddered as she closed the door and said something about unusually mobile sperm.

"I do love you." He called helplessly.

Thirty minutes later

Gil called out to Sara who was now crying softly, "Honey, you have to let me in."

"I don't have to do shit," she said, sniffing loudly.

"Yes you do. You have to eat and go to work and generally leave the house and live your life."

More crying.

"Sara, if you don't open the door I'm going to pick the lock or break it down. Either way is going to require repair, no matter what, and that little bit might be the difference between UCLA and Harvard for our little one. I mean, UCLA is a fine school, but Harvard is where we met so I was thinking it would nice for little Sara or Gil to go there. Then there's this shiny ring that I've been carrying around for at least a week."

Sara called from the bathroom, echoes making her voice sound deeper and more fragile, "I am not going to be your shotgun bride. So you can forget about that Gil Grissom."

He leaned against the closed door and whispered softly, "I said I've been carrying it around for a week."

"Yeah, right," she scoffed. She was crying harder now.

"Sara I'm not going to stand out here and listen you cry. Now open the damn door."

Sara opened the door and circled her arms around his neck.

**Epilogue**

Seven year old Gilbert Isaiah Grissom Jr. hoisted himself up on a stool and positioned himself across from his father who was pouring Perrier into dry pancake batter.

"Why are you using that Dad?" He asked as he opened his ever present notebook.

"Marvin Wood, the guy with the bandanas, says it makes them fluffy."

The boy opened his ever present green note book and his case of markers. He looked at the array of colors and began to choose the perfect hues for the task before him.

"Where are your brothers?" Gil asked.

Six old twins, Fredrick Colin and Alfred McClan Grissom were often too smart for their own good. Trouble was a way of life for them.

"Playing Star Wars Word Spell."

"Who's winning?" Gil wanted to know. Most of the fraternal twin boys' trouble stemmed from the fact they were inseparable and extremely competitive.

Dares and taunting had led to two broken arms, one black eye and one bruised cornea.

"Um, I think Freddy is winning because Al just missed "weather", as in the kind that brings you rain."

Ike added blue leaves to a tree as he spoke.

"Thank you for the clarification." Gil said to the top of dark curls.

"No problem. I know you like clarification," the boy explained easily.

"Isn't 'weather' a pretty advanced word? Didn't you just learn to spell that word this year?" Gil poured batter onto the hot griddle.

"You know how to boost a guy spirits Dad. I'm well aware that Frick and Frack are smarter than I am," he said capping his marker and nailing his father with Gil's own blue eyes.

"I didn't say that. You know that's not true. You have different aptitudes. That's why we put you in the Artist's School. You do know that right?" Gil was studying his oldest boy.

"I know Dad. Sometimes it would be nice to be more conventional. You know, good at math or spelling."

"You are good at those things. You always score at least a grade ahead."

Gil flipped pancakes and walked over to his sensitive artistic son. "No one is this family is conventional. We don't allow it. Your mother and I love you just the way you are. Okay?"

The boy blushed, showing crooked teeth. Gil kissed his curls and walked back to the stove.

"Speaking of Mom. I thought you went to find her."

"She was on the phone with some doctor."

Ike pondered the color of his drawing's grass color.

Gil frowned, "She was?"

"Yeah, she was talking about eggs and sperm and fertilizing. Actually, she was yelling."

Gil shoveled cakes on to a plate and left the kitchen.

On his way down the hall he stopped to look in on the twins. Freddy and Al were no longer playing the spelling game. They had moved on to Bob the Builder math quiz.

Brown eyes and blue eyes were glued to the screen.

"You guys okay?"

They spoke at the same time, "Yeah Dad."

The number 14 flashed and Bob the Builder appeared and a heated argument started over something to do with a plus symbol. The boys were nose to nose by time Gil picked up each by a collar. It was rare for the two to actually hit one another. The broken bones and other scars had mostly been a result of dares gone too far.

The two boys wiggled and called for Ike and their mother to send in reinforcements as Gil tucked each under a strong arm.

"Mom! Help! Dad's carrying us around like sacks again!" Al shouted.

"Ike! Call Nana! She said Dad wasn't supposed to this anymore!" Freddy called to his oldest brother who the twins regarded as their savior.

Gil grumbled, "Just because you have conned my mother doesn't mean you can con me."

He retraced his steps back to the kitchen.

"I told Uncle Brass about this and he said this is cruel and unusual punishment." Al barked sounding very much like his father as they rounded the corner back through the living room.

"Spell punishment." Gil huffed as he walked through the large living area. He knew how to distract overachievers. It was the only thing that kept his brood in line.

Both boys stopped moving in his powerful grip. They smiled at one another.

Freddy started. "P-U-N-E"

Al stopped his brother. "I think it's an I."

"You do?" The other twin said.

"Yeah? Remember that Charlie Brown….

They were engrossed in the spelling debate by the time Gil had situated them at the kitchen table.

He studied Al's straight light hair and Freddy's dark wavy locks. Neither really looked like he or Sara. Instead they bore a striking resemblance to their paternal and maternal grandmothers with Maria Grissom's dark waves and round face and Laura Sidle's blonde hair and sculpted cheek bones.

"Breakfast in five minutes."

The nodded gleefully. The twins loved to eat and savored every meal.

Gil followed the sound of his wife's voice. He found mother and daughter in the spacious office that he and Sara shared. Four year old Francis Maria Sidle had tuned out her look-a-like mother's hysteria and was donning her Saturday crown jewels and long gloves. On Saturday, she was allowed to dress herself and she spent the whole week planning of the big event as she decided which one of her tiaras went with what jewels. Sara blamed Catherine. She was all the rage at her brother's soccer games.

"Hi Daddy," the girl said dramatically, "Did you see the picture Ike is painting for me? It's my own world; but you can come to visit if you want."

He smiled down at his daughter, "Thank you, Princess. Would you mind joining your brothers in the kitchen?"

She pumped long fingers. "Pancakes." She scurried down the hall calling out to all the Grissom men. Francis believed that her brothers were born only to serve her and mostly, she was right.

Sara's voice rose an octave. "No, Dr. Servat I don't think you understand me. Perhaps I haven't made myself clear, since at this point I am completely freaked out. My husband and I don't have a problem getting pregnant. We have gotten pregnant with a condom, birth control pills and while using both. Now we've managed to get pregnant despite the fact that husband had a clip and snip by the best guy on the West Coast. Despite the fact that he had a follow up visit and they told him that he was producing no sperm."

Gil stopped moving. There was no way Sara was pregnant again. The kids just kept coming. He looked at his wife and she got pregnant. He would be dead before he got them all out for the house. What if he never got them out of the house? What if they lived with him forever? The noise could kill him. Maybe going deaf would'nt be so bad.

Where would they put another baby? Their five bedroom house was claustrophobic as it was. He would have to take extra consulting gigs just to feed this bunch. The twins alone had added another hundred dollars to their grocery bill.

And then there were the lessons. Right now they only paid for private art lessons and piano lessons for Ike and Francis. Soon they would have to figure out what to do with the twins. It was either a magnet school, home schooling or the private school in the area that catered to gifted youngsters. No matter what they decide it required more money and more energy.

What if it was another girl? That would be college and a wedding. What if one his son's was gay? Whose parents paid for the wedding in that case? Times like these he wished he was a conservative. Maybe that's why people were conservative, so they would only have to pay for their daughter's wedding. Maybe Jerry Falwell was on to something.

College. He was the father of four very bright children. They wouldn't stop at the undergraduate level. They would want advanced degrees like their parents. They would want to travel. He and Sara wanted them to travel. They wanted the best for their children.

He needed to take on more work. Work. He would become one of those fathers. The ones that didn't know what his kids' hopes and dreams were, the kind that never made sporting events or school plays.

Sara's voice interrupted his spinning thoughts.

"We're scientists Dr. Servat. We are meticulous scientists. The last time my sweet husband flew by the seat of his pants was when he asked me out seven years ago. This was after a decade of knowing me and he only did it then…"

Sara let out sigh.

"You don't need to know that. My point is that we are not those people. We read the directions and we follow them to the letter. We researched the vasectomy doctor for months."

Sara stopped and listened, still not realizing that he was in the room.

"How old is my husband? He's fifty four."

Sara blew and errant curl from her line of vision. "Gee, I'm so glad that you are blown away by his fertility. He would be happy to hear that and no he can't participate in your study."

"Why not?" Gil said whining, forgetting that he had just learned that his wife was pregnant with his fifth child.

"Dr. Servat, I must not be making myself clear. That's possible because I am over forty and pregnant with my fifth child. My wedding was a shotgun wedding. I have spent more time pregnant and married than I have not pregnant and married. My husband and I did not plan on having more than two children. We are now on the fifth Grissom under the age of eighteen."

Sara quieted again.

"Yes THAT Gil Grissom."

"Yes he's a genius."

"Yes I am that Sara Sidle-Grissom"

"No I don't think I am a genius."

Gil spoke again. "Since when?"

"Yes. All of our children appear to be of above average intelligence."

"No they aren't all science geeks," Sara's voice filled with motherly pride, "Our oldest draws and paints and writes poetry. He's so sweet and gentle. Our twins are more like Gil and I, very analytical, very competitive."

"Our daughter Francis is a lot like our oldest and her grandmothers. Very peaceful, very ethereal, and sweet-tempered. Looks like she might have gotten the music gene from my mother. She can play two songs on the piano."

Sara laughed at something. "I don't know. I don't like that idea of my kids being studied. I will talk to my husband. Dr. Servat, do you have any suggestions? We can't keep having babies. We just can't. We aren't youngsters and we aren't rich. Actually, I think my husband was close to being rich when he got married. That was thousands of dollars ago though."

Sara sat up straight. "Stop having sex?"

Gil's thick fingers took the phone from Sara's hand. "Dr. Servat? Don't call us we'll call you."

He slammed the phone, "That doctor should be reported. How can a fertility specialist say such a thing?"

He looked at his stunned wife, "Breakfast. Gotta feed you two."

Gil held his four day old daughter like the parenting expert that he was. Sara-Catherine peered irritably at her father. She had just eaten and now she wanted to sleep. Her mother was dozing peacefully in the next room and her siblings had been banished only minutes ago. Gil doubted they would stay put but he had to make a show of exercising some discipline.

"Tell me sweetheart. Are there anymore where you come from? You can tell your old Dad. We will keep between us. Blue Eyes to Blue Eyes. Grissom to Grissom."

Her tiny lips yawned and Gil could have sworn she winked at him as shut her eyes.


End file.
